


I'm fine.

by evelinafelicia



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 09:31:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3129635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evelinafelicia/pseuds/evelinafelicia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She never planned this. Neither of them did. But it was time to move past it, past him and their mess of a love story and time to be better than fine.</p>
<p>She had a new life, in another country, on another continent. A place he couldn't reach. And it was all fine.</p>
<p>Except when it wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm fine.

What is important to know is that she never planned this. Dating him, leaving him, realizing falling in love with him was a possibility, losing him, reconnecting and just like that she’s leaving him again.

They had a complicated relationship, to say the least. And that was fine.

She was fine, even though every time she’s just on the brink of in love, one foot dangling off a cliff, someone left without a word or not enough words or not the right words.

It was fine that she had to keep telling herself that they weren't right for each other, no matter how good they were together, that it wouldn't work. Under different circumstances, maybe it could have. In another life, perhaps. Their story wasn't a seven hundred letter kind of story; it wasn't a story for the history books.

It was fine.

_It was fine._

All she needed was a reality check.

So she left. She left and it hurts but she’s, you know, fine.

She never planned this. Neither of them did. But it was time to move past it, past him and their mess of a love story and time to be better than fine.

She had a new life, in another country, on another continent. A place he couldn't reach. And it was all fine.

Except when it wasn't.

What killed her the most was the fact that ‘in another life’ was such a pathetic excuse of a line. What other life? For all she knew this was it. This life was the only life she'd have live and all they had was what they just had lost.

She wanted him there with her, she wanted to share more than the few words they shared every other week or so. She wanted a life with him and she wanted it in this life.

So when Peter calls and tells her one of her old cases are back up on their radar again, there's no question.  One minute she’s home and the next she's on a flight to New York. It’s all a blur and she kind of hates herself a little, mostly because there was never a doubt in her mind. She didn't even hesitate, just told Peter she'd be there as soon as possible.

But she's not exactly sure when she decides to go straight to his house. 

She's not sure what she’s expecting. A number of things could happen (several of which involved kissing and less and less clothing by the second) but this scenario was not what she'd had in mind. She'd knocked on the door and someone else had opened it.

A woman. Long auburn hair, glasses, dressed in Neal’s shirt. In his shirt. It’s like a blow to the stomach, it shouldn't be but it is and she’s not sure what to say, where to begin, so she stares. She stares and it gets awkward and the woman asks her, in the politest way possible, what she wants and most importantly, who she is.

Sara wants to ask her the exact same thing.

”I—uh— I’m an— old friend? There’s a case— Peter called— I— is he in?”

”Neal? He’s actually in the shower,”

She says his name. And she’s wearing his shirt. And he’s in the shower. Again, it shouldn't be, but it’s like a slap to the face. The woman looks concerned. There are signs of actual genuine concern, when all Sara can think of is the weight of the baton in her bag.

”Do you want to come inside?”

She can’t register it at first, what this woman is saying. Mostly because she still hasn't processed that she’s wearing Neal’s shirt. His shirt. Her shirt.

”Are you okay?”

”I’m sorry, what?”

”I asked if you wanted to come inside and wai—”

She’s just about to tell her thanks, but no thanks. They can catch up at the office. But she never gets that far, because when she hears the door open and someone walking towards her she freezes.

”Rebecca? Who was at the—” He sees her and stops dead in his tracks. ”Door.”

She smiles. Or at least some kind of version of a smile, she thinks. ”Hi, Neal.”

”Sara. Hi.”

”Hi.”

His hair is still dripping from the shower, the water running down over his shoulders onto his white t-shirt. Which is not distracting at all.

”What are— what are you doing here?”

Oh.

”Oh, right. Peter called. This case I had and he wanted help and— you know. He didn't tell you?”

”No.”

They stay quiet for a moment, a short moment, before the lady (had he called her Rebecca?) with his shirt clears her throat.

”Hi, I’m Rebecca.” She extends her hand and Sara has to fight the urge to slap it away. Instead she gives her the best smile she’s got.

”Sara. Old friend to Neal and Peter.”

”Right.”

Suddenly it’s awkward and no one knows where to look. Sara wishes the ground could swallow her and bring her back to London. Of course he’d find somebody. It was Neal, after all.

Rebecca mumbles something about getting dressed and catching up before leaving the room. That breaks the spell.

”I was actually leaving, so..” She says as she backs away from the door. Neal doesn't move (which shouldn't sting, but does anyway.).

”You don’t have to,” he says ”you could stay.”

Laughing is the last thing on her mind at the moment, but she can’t help the chuckle that escapes her. ”Neal, I’m pretty sure I have to leave.”

He doesn't argue. Again, it stings when it shouldn't.

”How long are you staying in New York?”

”I’m leaving in a couple days.”

She still hadn't bought her ticket back.

”Could we, I don’t know, meet up for coffee?”

”We’ll be working together.”

”I wan’t to talk to you.”

”Again, we’ll be working together.”

”Alone.”

She’s in the hallway now. ”Like I said, I’m only here for a couple of days…Look, Neal, I really have to go. I’ll see you around.”

She turns around, walks down the hallway, rounds the corner but before she can make it down the stairs someone grabs her hand and stops her.

”I’m sorry, Sara.” Neal says, ”I’m so sorry.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, counts to three and takes a breath before turning around to give him the best smile she’s got. Which is barely a smile at all at this point.

”You've got nothing to apologize for. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

He releases her and she storms down the stairs, out the door and into her rental car. She drives in silence to her hotel and it’s not until the door to her room closes, she allows herself to break down. 


End file.
